


Snap Back To Reality

by Taree Minx (KathleenMariO)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: ill add tags and characters/relationships as I continue the story, please give me feedback i crave attention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathleenMariO/pseuds/Taree%20Minx
Summary: Katherine Hargreeves is her father's Number Six, and has always felt out of place following the way of the world, particularly when her brother is involved. When a long lost sibling is pushed back into the world and has eight days to save it, will she finally find her place by his side?





	Snap Back To Reality

Sweet young Rhea (such an apt name for her poor situation) was at the engagement party for the month, one of her long distant cousins who hadn’t spoken with her since they were 3. But hey, a party’s a party, and one must enjoy it while it lasts. A champagne flute in hand as she waltzed around the outer circle of tables within the banquet hall, Rhea’s face instinctively screwed up as she was overcome with the most unbearable pain imaginable. Hand clenched around the flute, the glass chinked as it cracked slightly, distracting Rhea the tiniest bit to put it down on the closest table as she made a beeline to the restrooms. Surely it was just a case of eating some of Jay’s suspicious homemade shrimp cocktail, Rhea thought as she raced into the open cubicle without shutting the door behind. Her head hung over the gaping bowl expecting to throw up as another tsunami of pain crashed over her. A trembling hand attempted to wrap around her stomach in a subconscious attempt to squeeze the shrimp out, faltering as she couldn’t make it the whole way around. Screaming in agony, Rhea looked down, the seams of her cocktail dress tight across her incredulously swollen abdomen. The door to the hall opened as Rhea screamed, stifling the laughter from the two middle aged women that entered.  
Immediately, one of them hurried over to Rhea, asking what was wrong, what had happened, what had - it fell on deaf ears as all Rhea could focus on was the dress pinching at the sides as she felt the tearing of her skin as it stretched beyond anything she’d coped before. The lady apologised profusely (Rhea would be thankful for her later) as she reached her hand inside a place no hand had touched Rhea before. Terrified, Rhea cursed at her, trying to push her away in the confinements of the stall before the other woman held her down. Another crash of pain, and Rhea felt herself clenching every muscle in her body, her nails cutting into the palms of her hands, her yelling resonating throughout the tiled room. The pain withdrew as sweat beaded across her forehead, sticking the once curled hair to her. The silence felt like it was all but for a split second before the pain relapsed, right beneath her skin and forcing her hips to move as the lady pushed her legs as wide as she was able to in the small space and telling Rhea to push too. It was instinct, animalistic instinct to squeeze with the pain and Rhea forgot to breathe as she tightened, gasping for air as the wave of pain swept back out into the realm of potential. The floor coated with the glistening red of fresh blood and clear from a newly broken amniotic sac as the fluids slowly began their ascent up the hems of the ladies skirts and of Rhea’s cocktail dress. The relapse began and Rhea cried that she couldn’t do it as her legs shook from the stress and duress. And in a fraction of a breath, she wasn’t filled with the same agony anymore. A cry. High-pitched, squealing, confused.  
It was an infant’s cry as it longed for its mother, the stark, bitter cold of the filthy bathroom being an extreme juxtaposition to the warmth and darkness of her mother’s womb. The cries continued as Rhea’s head fell backwards into the warm lap of one of the ladies. Scurrying to the basins, the baby was wrapped in an azule hand towel and laid upon the young mother. Rhea clutched at her baby, crying from joy that she wasn’t in pain anymore - crying from confusion and disdain for this baby - crying because she wasn’t ready to be a mother.

It wasn’t even a week since the baby had been born and both the news and the papers within her country had their faces across headlines and over the front page: MIRACLE BABY BORN IN BATHROOM! Rhea held her child on the sofa as she tried to flip channels to anything but the news. The baby gurgled, its brown eyes seeming to stare into her soul, sensing her thoughts and knowing exactly what Rhea had wanted so badly to do the night prior. Lying back down on the sofa with the baby on her stomach, she cringed and shut her eyes as the baby cried again. Nothing she could do would satiate it except for just looking at her and allowing the child to watch her. Putting the baby on the mat on the floor, Rhea hid in the bathroom as tears slipped down her cheeks.  
The had to be a nightmare, it was all just a bad dream. How were you meant to beat a nightmare? As her mother had told her when she was young, you have to defeat the monster. Wiping the tears away, Rhea walked back out into her living room, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa and holding it in both hands. The wailing continued as Rhea stepped closer, leaning down over the baby, hair falling down just enough for the babe to attempt to reach for it. It can’t even hold its head up, it wouldn’t be able to fight this, she thought, it would be easy, and then the pain would en-  
At the door, a large and commanding rapping occurred. Rhea looked up, throwing the pillow back onto the sofa as she headed to the door. When it opened, a frail man with a monocle and cane stood there...


End file.
